


It's Kisumi, Not Kiss Me!

by miipn



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, don't worry kisumako is onesided obviously, everybody is a dork in here, flirtatious!kisumi, haru is a jealous af dork, jealous!Haru, kisumi is a flirty dork, makoto is a somewhat dense sweetheart, overused kisumi joke, popular!oblivious!makoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 01:09:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20417378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miipn/pseuds/miipn
Summary: Haruka hates how Kisumi is always hanging off of Makoto. He really hates how Kisumi tries to steal Makoto away from him. He especially hates how flirtatious Kisumi is with Makoto. But if there’s anything about Kisumi that Haruka hates the most, it’s that damn name of his. —makoto/haruka





	It's Kisumi, Not Kiss Me!

**Author's Note:**

> tadaaaa, another cliché fic inspired by kisumi’s name and my love for jealous!haru and oblivious!makoto hahah ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) short oneshot to beat writer's slump!

Haruka _ hates _ it.

It's the way Kisumi ogles Makoto during their study sessions, the way his tongue juts out and flicks across his lips when Makoto drinks from his water bottle, the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down the moment Makoto decides to stretch, the way his hand briefly grazes the side of Makoto’s arm as he reaches to turn the page of the textbook, the way Kisumi plays with his hair in a kittenish manner when Makoto undoes the few top buttons of his shirt during the summertime.

Not to mention it's the way Kisumi’s text messages would flash endlessly on Makoto’s phone screen, the way he would invite Makoto out on dates, the way Kisumi would turn up on the specific days Makoto would be swimming at the pool, the way he smirks at Haru whenever Makoto isn't looking.

Haruka really, _ really hates _ it.

And what Haruka hates most is the way—

“Cute." There's a giggle, and Haruka's attention snaps to Makoto to see him with a faint smile playing on his lips with the flush of the cheeks. His heart hammers against his ribcage, surprised when his eyes meet Makoto's and abruptly looks away. It only drops a second later when Haruka realizes Makoto had been talking to the air again, a habit the boy had since childhood, and not to him.

Then, he feels a hand brushing the top of his head, pink raining down in front of his eyes. Turning, he finds Makoto reaching for his bangs, gently sliding it to the side of his forehead. He smiles that smile which makes his chest throb in ways it never had before and speaks shyly, “Haru-chan, you have such pretty flowers in your hair.”

_ Pit-a-pat _.

And for a moment, the whole world is still, long enough for Haruka to soak up the blinding view in front of him, always managing to fluster him, despite it being one he’s seen many times. Makoto only stares back at him, crinkled eyes and head cocked innocently to the side. "It's gone now."

Haruka suppresses a shudder, feeling a blush crawl onto his cheeks from the back of his neck. It's just Makoto; there's no reason for a gesture like that to rile him up so much. They hold hands every single day—Makoto brushing petals off of his head shouldn’t be any different. The shyness showing on Makoto’s face is probably the thing catching him off guard right now. Haruka brushes his hand away, quickening his pace as he shields his face from view, though he’s sure Makoto sees the colors of cherry blossoms blooming on the back of his neck and ears.

“... Drop the -chan.” Haruka can only mutter, words muffled by the back of his hand.

"That's right. Sorry." Makoto laughs and matches his pace to Haruka's, not paying any mind to the tomato his best friend had become. "You suddenly blanked out on me when I began talking about Kisumi."

"Oh."

His face blanches at the mention of Kisumi's name, and Haruka finally remembers the reason why he had been thinking of the devil just seconds earlier. _ Shigino Kisumi _ . Oh, how _ great _ Haruka's hatred for the man is. Just the mention of his name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. _ Kisumi _ is the most stubborn, annoying, clingy man he has ever had the pleasure of _ not _ meeting in his life. Maybe he would have appreciated Kisumi’s existence on this Earth, if it were not for the filthy hands he tainted Makoto’s _ life _ with.

"You know, Haru." Then, Makoto casts another long glance at him, sending his heart jumping into his throat. "I know how busy you are, so you really don't have to hang out with me and Kisumi today." The blush already on his face deepens as his voice lowers several notches, a finger adorably scratching the side of his cheek. "Even though it makes me really, really happy..."

_ Well, I can't really leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? _ Haruka wants to retort, fighting off the tomato state threatening to take over his body. Every single cell in his body is screaming, " _ Adorable! So adorable!" _(Seriously, when had he began looking at Makoto with rose-filtered glasses?)

But before Haruka can actually reply, his best friend is hopping on the spot, waving his hand as if his life depends on it. "Kis-u-mi!" He shouts, enunciating every syllable of his enemy's name.

Haruka's insides are cringing and ringing the warning bells as Kisumi makes sure his wink doesn't go unnoticed by the pair and jogs up to Makoto, flinging his arms around him. "Of course, I'll kiss you, Makoto!" He says, puckering his lips and plants one right on Makoto's cheek.

Then, Kisumi turns to him and smirks that disgustingly disgusting smirk.

"K-K-Kisumi?!"

"Aw," Kisumi teases, focused again on the boy in his arms. "Is Makoto asking for another one?"

Ugh.

Haruka _ hates _ it.

He _ really _hates it.

Like he really, _ really _hates it.

And what Haruka hates most is the way Kisumi uses his own name to his advantage.

* * *

The first time Haruka catches himself staring at Makoto snuggling with a stray kitten is also the first time he realizes he likes Makoto more than he should.

Makoto had always harbored a soft spot for animals, especially for the felines that roamed around the outside of Haruka's home. He would often stop by after school and pretend to do homework—"Haru, my house is too noisy!"—only to spend the rest of the day fooling around with the stray kittens, which usually lead to him having to sleep over.

The kittens only like to come out on sunny days, so if it's rainy or anything worse, Makoto doesn't stay the night and actually commits to completing his assignments on time. (It disappoints Haruka, but he doesn't say it out loud.)

Today seems to be another one of those boring rainy days where Makoto visits just for them to study together. It's just another normal and rainy day, that is to say, until Makoto barges through his front door an hour early before they were supposed to meet up. "Haru! Haru, look!"

Haruka flinches, dropping the ladle back into the pot with a clunk and quickly turning off the stove. "Makoto?!" Rushing out of the kitchen, he sees his friend soaking wet, cradling _ something _in his arms. "What happened?!"

"I found this kitten right outside my front door!" Makoto says in a rush, eyes practically glued to the animal in his arms. He then looks up at Haruka and feigns those soft puppy eyes that always shook his heart at the core. "Please, please, _ please _ can we keep it here today? Ren is allergic to fur, so I couldn't even bring it inside. Please, _ please, _Haru? It's shivering..."

_ Idiot, you look like you're the one who's freezing. _Haruka doesn’t like felines as much as Makoto does, so he’s not really happy when Makoto is basically dragging in a kitten from off of the streets into his house. But as long as it makes Makoto happy, Haruka will play along with his plan. Besides, Makoto will sleep over during the night if the kitten stays. He finds himself helplessly nodding, already feeling defeated. "You know where the towels are…"

The boy brightens, straightening immediately. "Haru-chan is seriously the best! I'll make it up to you someday, promise!"

"Just… remember to clean up after yourself…"

Even if it's not because of him, Haruka is glad to have Makoto over for the night again.

The only sounds in the room afterwards come from Makoto babying the kitten and its occasional purring. And Haruka doesn't think sneaking a couple peeks at his friend is bad, even if it sends little jolts of electricity to his heart and makes him flustered whenever Makoto looks up in his direction with a beam.

Haruka doesn't think it's bad at all, even if he's staring at a sleeping Makoto with the kitten snuggled in the crook of his neck instead of sleeping. It's not bad at all because the sound of the rain pattering against his window is the thing keeping him up anyways.

Well.

That's what he thought…

Until the image of him in place of the kitten pops into his head, and Haruka's suddenly forced through a restless night with a restless heart.

(The next morning, Haruka struggles to stay awake through class and swimming practice.)

* * *

The first time Haruka feels angry with Makoto for calling him _ Haru-chan _is also the first time he realizes he wants Makoto to look at him as someone more than just a childhood friend.

It all starts when his classmate absentmindedly makes a comment. "Yeesh, Nanase. Sometimes, I forget you and Makoto aren't brothers." It irks Haruka to the core about how someone can even _ mistake _ the two for siblings. They don't even share the same surname, much less do they look like they could come from the same bloodline. And Haruka's not sure why it annoys him so much until Makoto becomes somewhat famous within the town.

There's nobody who goes to Iwatobi High School who hasn't heard of Tachibana Makoto, the captain of the uprising swim club, and his nickname as “the handsome, muscular Tachiboy who had a smile that could kill and heal an army of people”. (An accurate description of Makoto… not that Haruka would ever admit aloud.)

Makoto’s somewhat of a social butterfly, someone who isn't afraid to greet with a smile and wave before going off on his merry little way. His considerate and inviting personality did attract other students from the other neighboring schools, which helped boost their club's popularity. What really didn't help was the fact that his best friend didn't know how to refuse people, even piling up a mountain of chocolate gifts on White Day and splitting the amounts between his siblings, Nagisa, and himself with much more to spare.

With lots of attention comes the unnecessary confessions launching itself at Makoto left and right (and even taking time away from their swim practices). Haruka tries his damn hardest to establish the fact that Makoto _simply_ _isn’t available _among his peers by taking it upon himself to rid the sickening honey-like gifts sitting in Makoto’s locker and supergluing himself by his side everywhere they went in school. If these gifts and confessions never reach Makoto, Haruka would never have to experience the agony of Makoto's mind being occupied by someone other than him.

(Makoto doesn't say anything if he notices an extra clingy Haruka following him everywhere. In fact, he seems to enjoy the extra attention from his best friend, always seeking Haruka out whenever he had to go somewhere to repel the thirsty eyes everywhere in the damn school.)

It's pretty obvious that he's no one exciting or eye-catching to Makoto, which is why Haruka thinks there's bound to be at least person who's already caught Makoto's attention in the crowd of people constantly entering and exiting their lives. To Makoto, he's probably the same old childhood friend who grew up with him—someone who's like the protective older brother Makoto never had.

And being the only male "-chan" friend only reinforces that idea. The idea of Makoto never looking at him as someone more strangely makes his chest sink. Sometimes, Haruka idly wonders if it's worse than Makoto not wanting him at all.

"Haru-chan, thanks for saving me again." Makoto's voice reels him back to the ground, along with a teasing bump of the shoulders. He looks a bit flustered, scratching the side of his cheek timidly like he always does when he's shy. "I never know what to do. It really means a lot to me."

_ There he goes again with the _ "-chan" _ again… _Haruka thinks to himself disdainfully, feeling tense all of a sudden. "You always say that…!" He trails off to a mumble, feeling flushed with anger and not knowing if he's upset about Makoto thanking him all the time for his problem or the use of "-chan" again.

Makoto looks guilty, almost like an abandoned puppy on the side of the road. “I’m sorry, Haru-chan.”

Haruka only grunts, not intending for it to come as harsh as it did. It's getting even harder to breathe now with or without Makoto gazing fixedly at the side of his face and seeming to be at a loss for words for once. When Makoto finally opens his mouth to say something, Haruka climbs the stairs instead of saying goodbye like they usually do.

Turning his nose in the air and trying his hardest to ignore the stare burning into his back, Haruka simply walks towards his house without uttering a single syllable.

(In the bathtub, before Makoto comes to pull him out, Haruka silently practices the line, "drop the -chan," over and over again.)

* * *

The first time Makoto comforts Haruka during thunderstorms and lightning is also the first time he realizes cuddling with Makoto is something he wants to do everyday.

It's odd, really. If anything, after that one night during training camp, Makoto should be the one afraid of thunderstorms and lightning—not the other way around. Sure, Haruka's fainted in front of Makoto before _ twice _(and Makoto may or may not have spun into panic mode), but he never grew a phobia to rivers, sunny days, or running. Makoto didn't act any differently even the day after the next.

Vaguely, Haruka remembers Rin telling him about how violently Makoto's reaction had been to his near death at the river and wonders if it's any similar to how Haruka had felt on the beach. Does Makoto still remember his cold skin? The trembling of his hands as he tried to shake Haru awake? The eerily peaceful expression? The limpness of his body?

How close to death he was?

For Haruka, the memories never left.

Ever since that night, all Haruka saw whenever he closed his eyes on stormy nights were images of Makoto struggling against the current until finally disappearing under the surface. He would only then wake up with a jolt, sweating and shaking profusely underneath the thin bed sheets.

And ever since that night, all Makoto ever did during the storm was come over unannounced and spend the night on the futon reading sci-fi novels. He would only wake up in the middle of a dream if Haruka pulled away from their interlaced fingers—"Haru, do you want to talk about it?"

_ Stay with me, and don't ever, _ ever _ leave, _Haruka never says.

It's their routine.

(Haruka never questioned Makoto about his sleepovers. If anything, it reassured him that Makoto wasn't going anywhere where he could not go.)

Today, however, today is one of those days they break the routine. Today, it's stormy, more violent than usual. Today, Haruka is all alone during a storm, feeling anxious and uneasy at the same time.

Today, the routine is broken.

For the first time, Makoto doesn't show up to coax him out of the water. Makoto doesn't even bother texting a message to him. There's no warm hand to pull him up to his feet.

Straightening up in the water, there's a feeling of dread growing in his stomach. He's shaking uncontrollably and gripping the sides of the bathtub, vision spinning around.

It's just like that night all over again. Makoto's not by his side like he should be. The storms are going to try to take Makoto again.

Haruka stills, images of Makoto falling down the slippery staircase and cracking his head open suddenly flashed through his mind. What if Makoto's hurt? He _ is _ clumsy. Makoto's hurt. Makoto's hurt. Makoto's going to die. Makoto's dying. _ Oh, please god _no— 

Haruka should have realized sooner.

In a flash, his clothes are on, soaking up the water dripping off of his skin, and droplets are flinging everywhere in his room. Everything is going by in a blur, and the walls of his house almost feel like it’s closing in on his lungs from how hard breathing has become all of a sudden. The only picture he sees in front of him is blood, blood, Makoto's limp body, blood, the empty space by his shoulder.

Makoto, Makoto, _ Makoto _.

It feels like an eternity of stumbling and getting to the door. He doesn't even bother to slip on his shoes, stumbling out of the house and slipping off of the hovering platform of his house. The amount that he's trembling, Haruka isn't sure if it's from the cold or from fear. By the time he gets there, he's already going to be too late—

"Sorry, Haru! My mom had me do so—Haru? Wha—where are you going at this hour?" There's a strong grip on his wrist, and he's immediately spun around, smushed into a broad chest. 

There’s the faint sound of a heartbeat drumming next to his ear, and Haruka takes a few minutes to register who's holding him so tenderly, then relaxing when he does.

"M-M...akoto?" Haruka manages to choke out, blinking out tears he didn't even know were there and hands clenched at the t-shirt in front of him. Suddenly, his legs give out on him, pulling him down to the ground and taking Makoto with him.

"Haru!" Makoto squeaks out. "You're burning up!" He gently pushes Haruka back, inspecting him with a worried expression on his face. "And you're soaked!"

Haruka ignores the fussing and brings a hand up to the side of Makoto's face, thumb caressing the side of his cheek.

The Makoto in front of him looks fine. His brown hair is a bit drenched from the rain, clothes wrinkled profusely, and eyes practically shining with concern. Nothing looks out of the ordinary. He looks nothing like the Makoto he had visioned earlier, all bloody and battered at the bottom of the stone stairs. His Makoto looks normal and healthy. That's good. Tachibana Makoto— 

Swaying, Haruka nods and sighs contently before sinking back into Makoto's arms, tightening his grip around his waist. He feels Makoto return the hug without hesitation. And the last thing he remembers is the world fading to black from relief and another one of Makoto's yelps.

(When Haruka wakes up, he's changed into his pajamas and snuggled in the crook of Makoto's neck with his arm loosely wrapped around him. The feeling from this proximity is unlike any feeling he's ever had the pleasure of experiencing before.

Being like this with Makoto… it's even better than being in water.)

* * *

Haruka _ hates _it.

It's the way Kisumi tries to feed Makoto a piece of chocolate cake, the way he distracts Makoto from his English homework, the way he blatantly ignores Haruka to flirt endlessly with Makoto, the way he takes a sip from the same cup that Makoto's lips has just been, the way he teasingly intertwines their legs together under the table.

Then, it's the way Kisumi props his hands under his chin and gazes at Makoto with that look in his eyes, the way Kisumi makes Makoto subtly fidget in his seat, the way he sticks his tongue out at Haruka when Makoto jots down a few sentences on his notebook.

Haruka really, _ really hates _it.

And it includes Kisumi, of course.

"What do I do here then, Makoto?"

"Well, here you have…"

There's been a weird pit forming in the center of his stomach ever since Kisumi took the seat right in front of Makoto. Now he's forced to watch as Kisumi pretends to brush hands with Makoto and lean over excessively when asking for help. Haruka can't help but roll his eyes, cheeks puffed out in annoyance.

And Makoto doesn't seem to be uncomfortable with Kisumi’s disgusting behavior because he simply beams the smile that could heal and kill an infinite amount of men and continues working on his assignment. Even though that smile isn't for him, Haruka’s heart trembles as he shoots an icy glare in Kisumi’s direction who's too busy blushing fifty shades of his own hair color.

Of course with Makoto right there, Kisumi doesn't pay any attention to Haruka. Makoto also barely bats an eyelid in Haruka's direction, way too occupied with Kisumi hogging up all his attention.

"Do you get it now?" Makoto asks, leaning back in his chair and releasing himself from Kisumi's grasp. Kisumi, on the other hand, retracts his hands to rest his chin on the back of them. His eyelids are half-lidded, lips pulling up into a tiny smirk.

Makoto's eyebrows furrows, head tilted in that one adorable position he always does when he's confused. "Kisumi?"

"Really?"

Haruka twitches, knowing what Kisumi is getting at. He's going to fool Makoto into giving a kiss. He tries to shoot Kisumi another threatening look, but it's blocked by the stupid love bubble Kisumi is in.

Makoto asks again, unsure. "Kisu… mi…?"

"Go ahead then!" Kisumi grins, not moving an inch from his spot. "I am Shigino Kiss-Me, aren't I?"

The pencil in Haruka's hand suddenly ends up bouncing off the side of Kisumi's head, but it doesn't deter the man from puckering up his lips and leaning into Makoto's personal space. Haruka has to physically slam his fist on the table to refrain from gagging all over his notes. "Excuse me…?!"

He's not quite sure if Kisumi even understands how creepy his comment is.

On the other hand, Makoto only blinks slowly, not quite understanding what Kisumi is implying due to his poor English comprehension. All he does is look down at his hands, trying to think of something to say. Before he utters a single syllable, Haruka speaks, more aggressively than hushed. "Stop saying your name like that!"

Innocently, Kisumi returns, "Like what? Kiss me?"

Makoto is still silent, looking like he just wants to go home.

The other customers in the café began to watch their table, curious about the commotion.

Haruka shoots back, "You're obviously saying _ kiss me _ in English…!"

Makoto is blushing now, stammering. "Wha—k-kiss—who?!"

"Yes, Haru." Kisumi says, barely glancing at him. "That's my name."

Haruka fumes even more, flicking the corner of his textbook in frustration. "It's Kis-_ u _-mi. Not Kiss-Me."

At this point, the customers have lost total interest over the two people fighting over a misleading name.

Dropping his head into his hands, Makoto shakes his head, voice muffled. "Okay, guys, that's enough…"

Of course, they ignore Makoto.

"Kis-_ u _-mi."

"Kiss me."

"Hey, ex_ cuse _ me!"

"Kis-_ u _-mi!"

"Kiss me!"

Makoto huffs, knocking at the table to no avail. "I said, hey!"

"It's Kis-_ u _-mi!"

Kisumi opens his mouth to reply, his line of sight now aimed above where Makoto's head was. "Mako—?"

"Mako—?" His eyes narrows, already disliking the change of subject. "What? It's Kis—"

He's not even able to register Kisumi's newfound distraction before fingers gently guide his face to the right. Face to face with Makoto, Haruka's lips are met with a dry, chaste kiss before he pulls away quickly. A new color of pink adorns Makoto's face as he slumps back down in his chair, hands covering his face again with furrowed eyebrows.

"Now, may you two _ please _ let me work now?"

(The first time Makoto kisses Haruka is also the first time he realizes that Makoto returns a love he thought unrequited for so many years—a huge victory for him since it's also in front of his biggest rival.)

**Author's Note:**

> a) finally finished the oneshot i've been working on for over a year UGH life kept getting in the way, haha!! i actually managed to get this out a day before school :D (and yes, and i know that the whole "kiss me/kisumi" joke is OVERUSED, but i love it all the same and uh clichés are my favorites)
> 
> b) the title was originally going to be “kiss me, not kisumi,” but it didn’t really fit, so i changed it to “say kisumi, not kiss me!” LOL
> 
> tumblr [@tanasemakoharu](https://tanasemakoharu.tumblr.com/) !!


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